Thomas in Charge: Part 3 of Thomas and Andy: A DA Love Story
by dustnik
Summary: Set in 1925. There's a new butler at Downton Abbey. Canon divergence after Season 5. AU in which Andy is gay, and he and Thomas are together.
1. Chapter 1

The summer day dawned sunny and warm, perfect weather for an outdoor wedding. Up in the servants' quarters, Miss Baxter and Anna were busily fussing over Mrs. Hughes who was glowing in her new, pale blue dress. Below stairs, Mr. Carson was nervous and even more irritable than usual with only his best man present to calm him down. "Are you sure you have the ring?" he asked for the third time.

Thomas sighed. He retrieved the ring from his pocket once again and showed it to the butler. "I've got it right here, Mr. Carson."

"Good. Good. Be careful you don't lose it."

No one had been more surprised than Thomas when Carson asked him to be his best man. The two had never really warmed to one other, but Thomas was the closest male servant in rank, so he supposed that was the reason.

Finally, it was time for the ceremony to begin. Chairs had been set out on the lawn facing a white trellis covered in roses. The two men stepped outside and made their way to where Mr. Travis, the vicar, was waiting. Carson suddenly stopped and turned to Thomas, looking uncharacteristically vulnerable. "Do you think we're doing the right thing?"

The older man had never asked his opinion about anything before. Thomas knew that he was just looking for reassurance. "Of course, you are. You and Mrs. Hughes belong together. Everyone knows that."

Carson gave him an unaccustomed smile. "Thank you, Mr. Barrow."

The wedding went off without incident with Lord Grantham giving the bride away. The family and all the indoor staff were in attendance, as well as many others from the village. There were tears from some of the women, especially Mrs. Patmore who had become quite close to the couple over the years.

A large tent containing food and beverages had been erected for the reception, and everyone was eagerly crowding in. The family members extended their best wishes to the couple before quietly slipping back into the house. Only His Lordship remained, his eyes eagerly searching for someone in the kaleidoscope of faces. Having spotted his quarry, he moved quickly in that direction. "Barrow, may I have a word with you inside?"

Thomas set down his drink on a long table. "Certainly, m'lord." He followed the Earl back to the house in silence. The two men entered the library with Thomas feeling a sense of trepidation as the peer ordered him to close the door behind them.

"Please, have a seat." Lord Grantham indicated one of the large, red sofas in front of the fireplace.

Thomas obeyed nervously. He searched his memory for anything he might have done recently to warrant a reprimand but could come up with nothing. He had matured with age and mellowed under Andy's gentle influence. His spying and scheming days were behind him now, and he was content to spend his life quietly at Downton with the young footman. Had His Lordship learned of their relationship and was preparing to sack him?

Lord Grantham began. "How long have you been working here, Barrow?"

"Fifteen years, m'lord, if you count my time in the army." It didn't hurt to remind the Earl that he was a war veteran.

"There are going to be big changes downstairs."

"Oh?" Thomas felt his mouth go dry. Was he being given his marching orders? After all, these days, few houses boasted an underbutler.

"Carson and Mrs. Hughes—Mrs. Carson," the peer corrected himself with a smile, "are retiring. They're anxious to open their guest house and begin their new life together. After the honeymoon, they'll be returning only until suitable replacements can be found, and then they will leave Downton for good."

"I see," Thomas spoke merely for something to say. He didn't understand why he had been singled out to receive this information.

Lord Grantham correctly read the puzzled look on his face. "We have already advertised for a new housekeeper and have gotten replies from several promising candidates. When Mrs. Carson returns, she will hold interviews and choose the right woman. That just leaves the position of butler." He paused, carefully studying the man sitting in front of him. "We three talked it over at some length and are all in agreement. We believe the job should be yours, Barrow."

For once in his life, Thomas was completely speechless. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. He had never expected anything like this. In his rise from footman to valet to underbutler, he had on several occasions only escaped being sacked by the skin of his teeth. He knew he was lucky to have any job there at all, and now he was being awarded the top prize, butler of Downton Abbey.

Lord Grantham fixed him with a quizzical look. "You'll need to think about it, of course."

Thomas felt tears well up in his eyes. "No, I don't have to think about it. I do want the job, m'lord. Thank you. Thank you, very much." He was afraid his voice might break if he said anything more.

The Earl seemed to understand. "Well-well, we'll talk more about it later. Congratulations, Barrow, and good luck." He shook Thomas' hand, and the new butler exited the room, returning to the reception in a state of shock.

Andy had seen Thomas accompany Lord Grantham back to the house earlier. Now he watched him reappear. The footman jostled his way through the crowd to meet him. "What did His Lordship want?"

In reply, Thomas jerked his head, indicating that Andy was to follow him. His face still wore a slightly dazed expression.

When they were safely out of earshot, Andy asked, "For God's sake, what is it?"

Thomas broke into a huge smile. "Carson is retiring, and you're looking at his replacement."

"What?" Andy thought he must have misunderstood him.

Thomas chuckled. "You think _you're_ surprised. Imagine how I felt when His Lordship offered me the job."

Andy threw his arms around the other man, not caring that someone might see them, and for once, he didn't meet with an objection. "I'm so proud of you. Is it a secret, or can I tell the others?"

Thomas smiled indulgently, raising a steadying hand. "I think it should wait, at least until the Carsons leave on their honeymoon, don't you? After all, this is their day, and I don't want to steal their thunder."

Andy nodded his agreement. "Right you are."

Thomas' gray eyes sparkled with delight. "Just promise me I can be there when you tell Mr. Bates. I want to see the look on his face when he hears the news." He never believed he could be this happy. He had the job he always wanted, and he had Andy. At that moment, life for Thomas Barrow was very, very good.


	2. Chapter 2

The weeks passed, and Thomas was beginning to settle into his new position. Lord Grantham was right when he said there were going to be big changes downstairs. After hiring a new housekeeper, a competent, nondescript woman of uncertain age, the Carsons left amid a flurry of tearful goodbyes.

Not long after their departure, an announcement was made that surprised and delighted the entire household. The Bateses were expecting their first child. They had already sold their London home and purchased a small hotel in the area which they were fixing up. As soon as the work was completed, they both turned in their notices and left too. Thomas knew that Bates resented his promotion and hated taking orders from him. The butler savored his victory over his old nemesis and was glad to finally see the back of him. He would miss Anna, though.

In due course, Mr. Molesley was elevated to the position of His Lordship's valet. The modest, gentle man now carried himself with a new sense of pride and purpose, restored once more to his former rank. Head housemaid, Madge, took Anna's place as junior lady's maid to Lady Mary.

Finding a new maid was the jurisdiction of the housekeeper, but Thomas was charged with hiring another footman. He immediately placed ads in the local newspapers and was just waiting for the replies. Although he never complained, Andy was doing the work of two men, leaving him exhausted at the end of the day. Now when Thomas looked into his room at night, he would often find the young footman fast asleep.

Thomas had transferred his belongings into Mr. Carson's old room which was considerably larger than his own. He wished he could move into the Bateses' empty cottage with Andy but knew it to be impossible. For men like them, their present situation was about as good as it got, and seeing Mr. Molesley and Miss Baxter together, Thomas knew the cottage wouldn't be empty for long.

One day, the family was dining out, giving him an opportunity to escape his duties at the Abbey and enjoy a rare half day off in York. He hadn't realized how much responsibility the butler's job entailed. It gave him a new-found respect for Mr. Carson who had made it look so effortless. Andy wanted to accompany him, but Thomas suggested that his time would be better spent catching up on his sleep.

The butler attended to several errands before taking in a late matinée at the cinema. Afterward, he nipped into a nearby pub to relax and throw back a couple of pints. It was just the sort of squalid establishment he used to frequent, hoping to meet men for anonymous sex. It sickened him to think of it now. He took a seat at the bar and looked around before turning back to the barman. "Jimmy!" Thomas' face clearly showed his astonishment at seeing his old friend again.

"Hello, Mr. Barrow." Jimmy seemed embarrassed at the meeting.

Thomas was quick to note the changes in the younger man's appearance. His once handsome face looked drawn and extremely thin with lines around the mouth and eyes that hadn't been there before. His golden hair hung flat and limp. Gone was his cocky, happy-go-lucky attitude, replaced with an air of quiet desperation. Thomas tried to sound enthusiastic. "Is this your place?"

"No, I just work here." Jimmy couldn't quite meet the other man's eye.

"Can you take a break?"

"Actually, I'm off as soon as my boss comes in." He looked eager to escape.

"Great. Then let's get dinner somewhere and catch up."

Jimmy looked uncomfortably at the floor without answering.

Thomas guessed the reason for his hesitation and quickly added, "My treat, of course."

"I couldn't let you do that, Mr. Barrow."

"Certainly you can, and for God's sake, call me Thomas."

A beefy, rough-looking man walked through the door and made his way over to the two friends. "I don't pay you to talk, Kent."

"No, Mr. Jennings," Jimmy replied meekly.

The man then turned to Thomas. "And why aren't you drinking? That seat is for paying customers only."

Thomas opened his mouth, ready to land a scathing retort, but he saw the pleading look in Jimmy's eyes. "Actually, we were just leaving," he answered instead. The proprietor grunted disinterestedly as the two men took their leave. Once outside, Thomas asked in disbelief, "Jesus, Jimmy, is he always like that?"

The barman managed a weak smile. "No. Sometimes he can be rather unpleasant."

Thomas chuckled heartily. At least, Jimmy hadn't lost his sense of humor. Thomas spotted a fancy hotel across the street and suggested they have their dinner there. Jimmy followed him in silence, acutely aware of his shabby appearance. It was only due to the older man's dapper style and elegant manner that the maître d' showed them to a table. The butler perused the wine list, and when the waiter arrived, he ordered a bottle of Bordeaux.

Jimmy was impressed. "You know about wine?"

"I've been on a steep learning curve lately," Thomas replied mysteriously. They studied the menu which consisted mostly of dishes with elaborate French names. Jimmy looked up at his companion in confusion. "I'll order for both of us, shall I?" Thomas suggested.

The waiter returned with the Bordeaux, pouring out a small amount for Thomas to sample. "Excellent," the butler declared. After taking their order, the waiter scurried away again while the two men sipped their wine in awkward silence. Thomas finally spoke. "What happened after you left Downton last time? I never heard from you after that night."

"I-I want to apologize for how I acted. I was feeling pretty down about—well, you know—and I guess I was a little drunk."

Thomas corrected him. "You were a lot drunk. I could hardly get you upstairs to your room."

Jimmy looked at him in surprise. "You came up to my room?"

"You don't remember?"

Jimmy shook his head slowly, searching his hazy memory of that night. He was immediately reminded of what in his mind he always thought of as "the incident," when Thomas had sneaked into his room and kissed him in his sleep. "Nothing happened, did it? I mean—"

"Nothing like that," Thomas replied icily. "You were upset about losing your girl, and you were crying. I listened, that's all."

"I cried?" Jimmy asked in disgust.

"Your heart was broken, and you were in pain. I know how that feels well enough."

Jimmy looked extremely uncomfortable, but just then the soup arrived, and they were spared any further discussion on that subject. The younger man tucked into his entrée like a starving man which Thomas was sad to see. "I didn't think I'd fancy French food, but this is really good," Jimmy mumbled between mouthfuls.

Thomas agreed. "It makes a nice change from Mrs. Patmore's stews and semolina." He paused. "Why didn't you get yourself back into service? You said they gave you a good reference at your last place when you left."

"I tried, but it's hard to find an opening for a footman these days. When my savings ran out, I had to take any work I could get."

Thomas hadn't forgotten his younger days, living hand to mouth, and the degrading things he was forced to do just to get by. He didn't want that for Jimmy. "What about Lady Anstruther? I reckon she owes you after getting you sacked in the first place."

"She got married again and moved back to France."

It was Thomas' turn to feel uncomfortable now. He wished he could offer Jimmy the job at Downton, but he knew it was Lord Grantham himself who had demanded the footman's dismissal. And then there was Andy. After their disastrous first encounter, Thomas wasn't sure the two men could work together.

Jimmy seemed to read his thoughts. "Are you and Andy still, uh—together?"

"As much as we can be under the circumstances."

"Old Carson still hasn't caught on?"

Thomas wanted to avoid telling Jimmy his news. "Mr. and Mrs. Carson are retired now," he replied simply.

"There's a new butler? Don't tell me they gave the job to Mr. Bates."

"Actually, he and Anna are gone too. Molesley took his place."

Jimmy was trying to process all the staffing changes made since he left. He looked puzzled. "But then, who's the new butler?"

Thomas saw that he wouldn't be put off any longer. "Me."


	3. Chapter 3

"You?" Jimmy repeated in amazed disbelief. "You're in charge of Downton Abbey?"

Thomas looked slightly embarrassed. "I know. I can't believe it myself sometimes."

Jimmy was still reeling from the news when something else occurred to him. "If Molesley is a valet now, that would leave an opening for a footman. Has the position been filled?"

"Not yet," Thomas answered uneasily.

"So what about it?"

"Aren't you forgetting something? His Lordship sacked you good and proper."

"You could talk to him. You could change his mind." His voice took on a desperate quality.

"He wouldn't listen to me."

Jimmy was insistent. "You have to try."

Thomas switched tacks. "Then there's Andy. You two didn't exactly hit it off last time."

"Andy," Jimmy scoffed.

"I can't see it working, can you?"

"We'll be dandy. You'll see."

"I'm really sorry, Jimmy, but I can't do it."

The younger man set down his knife and fork, lowering his eyes to the floor. "I guess I'll be going then. Thanks for dinner." He rose to leave.

"You haven't finished your meal."

"I'm not hungry anymore." He turned and began to walk away.

"Wait. I have to pay the bill." Thomas settled up, but by the time he emerged from the hotel, Jimmy had disappeared. He crossed the street and reentered the pub. He spotted Mr. Jennings standing behind the bar eyeing him suspiciously. "Excuse me, sir—"

"It's you again. Well, what do you want?"

"I was just wondering if you could tell me where Mr. Kent lives. He asked me to meet him but forgot to give me the address." Thomas held out a pound note.

The proprietor snatched it up greedily. "Around the back and up the stairs. His room is at the top."

"Thank you, Mr. Jennings." Thomas climbed the rickety steps in the rear which led to a rusty, metal door. He knocked, but receiving no reply, he turned the knob and stepped inside. He couldn't see anything at first. Finally, his eyes adjusted to the dim light enough to see Jimmy seated on an ancient mattress. There were no windows, and the only illumination was the glow from a single candle.

"How did you find me?"

"I slipped your charming boss a quid. Why did you run off like that?"

"There was nothing more to say."

Thomas sat down next to him. "I want to help you until you find something."

"But that _something_ isn't at Downton Abbey," Jimmy said bitterly.

"You have to understand my position. I'm new at this job. I can't begin by going up against Lord Grantham."

"Oh, I understand alright. You've become a good boy like Alfred and Molesley and Andy and all the rest of them." He added, "You've changed, Thomas."

His words hit home with the butler. He often felt like a hypocrite, doing and saying things he would have sneered at Carson for in the past. At the Abbey with Andy, he could push the feeling aside, but here with Jimmy, he was forced to acknowledge the truth of it. Sometimes he didn't know who he was anymore.

"What time is it? You'll miss your bus," Jimmy hinted.

It suddenly struck Thomas that the younger man wasn't wearing his pocket watch, the one that had belonged to his father until he was killed in the war. He had proudly shown it to Thomas on several occasions, knowing his interest in timepieces. "Where's your watch, Jimmy?"

He was met with stony silence.

"If it's broken, I might be able to fix it. I'm pretty good with clocks, you know."

"I pawned it."

"No. Not your dad's watch."

"I didn't want to do it, but I didn't have a choice, did I?" Jimmy hissed before adding resignedly, "Well, it's done now."

Thomas reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out his wallet. He quickly tore off several notes and held them out to the other man. "This should see you through until you can get something sorted."

"I don't want your money."

"We can call it a loan if you want. You can pay me back when you get on your feet again," Thomas insisted. Jimmy wouldn't take the money, but Thomas left it on a small table nearby. "I have to be getting back now," the older man spoke regretfully. He had to fight the urge to take Jimmy with him. "I'll be in touch soon. Goodbye."

Jimmy didn't reply, watching silently as Thomas walked out the door.

It was late when the butler arrived back at the Abbey. Everyone was asleep, but Andy was awake and waiting for him. "Where were you? I was beginning to worry."

Thomas sat down on the bed. He knew he had to tread carefully on this subject. "I ran into an old friend in York, and we had dinner together." He took a deep breath. "It was Jimmy."

Andy didn't say anything at first. When he did speak, his voice sounded hurt. "That's why you didn't want me to come with you."

Thomas reached for his hand. "No. It wasn't like that. I stopped in at a pub across from the Netherby Hotel, and there he was, working behind the bar. We didn't plan it. You have to believe me."

Andy pulled his hand away. Jimmy again. Why was it always Jimmy?

"I hardly recognized him at first. He's gotten terribly thin and worn-looking, and he's lost all his old bluster. He hasn't been able to find a job in service, so he's working at the pub for now. He lives in an awful room upstairs."

"You went to his room?"

He should have known Andy would focus on that. "I couldn't go without seeing where he lived, could I? I gave him some money too—not much—but enough to keep him from starving until something can be arranged."

"What do you mean?" Andy asked warily.

"He wants me to give him the footman position."

"He wants to come here?"

"How would you feel about that? After all, you'd be the one working with him the closest. Do you think you could rub along?"

"No, Thomas. I don't want him here, and that's flat."

Thomas was disappointed, although he wasn't really surprised. "His Lordship would never have allowed it anyway." He rose to go. He was tired, and there was nothing more to be gained by discussing the matter further that night, but when he undressed and got into bed, he found that sleep eluded him. He couldn't stop thinking of Jimmy, desperate and alone in that horrible place.

His mind traveled back to the way Jimmy had looked on the night he kissed him, young and handsome, his golden hair falling down on his forehead and his lips slightly parted in sleep. It was an image that played often in Thomas' mind over the years. He felt the usual excitement building between his legs, and he slid his hand under the waistband of his pajamas.

In his own room, Andy lay wide awake, staring at the ceiling.


	4. Chapter 4

A few days later at luncheon, Thomas distributed the second post before taking his seat at the head of the table. There was a large stack of mail addressed to him which he stuffed into the pockets of his new butler's coat. Jimmy was right. There were a lot of footmen looking for work.

Mr. Molesley noticed the letters and commented. "More replies to your advertisements, Mr. Barrow?"

"I suppose so."

"But none of the candidates so far are suitable?"

"No." Thomas was reluctant to fill the position, still hoping to find a way to give it to Jimmy. He and Andy hadn't spoken about Jimmy since the night Thomas returned from York, yet he was always there between them like an invisible wall.

After they finished their meal, Andy went upstairs to serve the family's lunch. Thomas helped him, feeling guilty for working him so hard. "What will you do with your half-day?"

"I thought I'd walk around the village, maybe look about in some of the shops," Andy replied casually. If Thomas had been facing him, he would have known immediately that the footman was lying. His good and honest countenance was at odds with his words.

After Andy left, Thomas was seated in his pantry, sorting through the latest footman applications. The trouble was they were all suitable. He put them in the drawer with the others. He knew he would have to schedule interviews with the most promising candidates and choose someone soon, but what would become of Jimmy?

* * *

Andy stood in front of the Netherby Hotel, staring at the opposing buildings. Thomas had said the pub was across the street, but he couldn't have meant that rundown old shack. It didn't look like Thomas' sort of place at all, but as it was the only pub on the block, it had to be the one. He entered the establishment, causing a little bell above the door to tinkle.

Jimmy was seated behind the bar, smoking a cigarette and reading a newspaper. The place was empty but would fill up soon when the nearby cotton mill let out. Upon hearing the bell, he looked up from the paper to see Andy standing in front of him.

Andy was startled at the other man's appearance. Thomas hadn't been exaggerating. He really did look dreadful. Andy sat down on a bar stool, the same one Thomas had occupied only a few days earlier. "Can I have a pint of bitter?" he asked.

Jimmy set the drink in front of him without a word, but his wary blue eyes never left the other man's face.

Andy took a huge gulp from his beer. "How are you, Jimmy?"

"What are you doing here? Did Thomas send you?"

"He doesn't know I'm here."

"Why are you here?"

Andy wasn't sure why he had come. He just knew that he had to see Jimmy again face to face. "Thomas told me about the other night. I wanted to see if I could help."

"I don't need any bloody help from you," the barman replied angrily.

Andy smiled slightly. It was almost as if Thomas himself were standing in front of him. "I think we got off on the wrong foot last time. I'd like it if we could start again."

"Why?"

Andy considered the question carefully. "I think it would make things easier for Thomas. He cares about both of us."

"But only one of us is having sex with him. What do two blokes do together anyway?"

Andy blushed. He now realized that coming there might have been a huge mistake.

"Has that footman position been filled?"

"Not yet. Why?"

"Just wondering, is all."

Andy tried to reason with him. "I know how much he'd like to help you, but this job means a lot to Thomas, and he wants it to be a success."

"Good luck to him then," Jimmy said disinterestedly.

Andy was forced to make a painful admission. "I know that Thomas cares for you in a way that he'll never care for me. I'll always be his second choice, but he and I could be happy together if you'd only let us."

"What have I done?"

"We both know you can convince him to give you the footman job even though it will cause him a lot of trouble with His Lordship and probably finish off the two of us. But he'll take the consequences for you, the same way he took that beating for you at the fair." Andy paused. "Please, don't hurt him again."

Jimmy listened carefully, studying the young footman's earnest expression. It suddenly struck him. This is what real love looked like. "What do you want me to do?" he asked resignedly.

"You must leave here and never contact him again."

Jimmy looked stunned. Although he could never give Thomas what he had with Andy, he liked knowing that there was someone who would always be there for him, someone he could always turn to. The thought of no longer having Thomas in his life was surprisingly disconcerting. "He's been a good friend to me."

"Then be a good friend to him for once. Give him a chance to be happy." Andy rose to go, leaving some change on the counter for his beer.

He was walking out the door when Jimmy said, "Alright."

"Alright, what?"

"I'll do what you asked. I'll go to London, and he'll never see me or hear from me again. It's not like I'll mind leaving this place behind, and there are more opportunities for a chap like me there."

"Thank you, Jimmy, and good luck to you."

The barman was curious. "What's Thomas like as a butler?"

Andy smiled proudly. "He's bloody brilliant."

He returned to the Abbey to find Thomas smoking outside in the courtyard. "You didn't buy anything?" the older man asked him.

"What?" Andy looked puzzled.

"You did say you were going shopping in the village, didn't you?"

"I said it, but it wasn't true. Actually, I went to York instead."

Thomas flicked his cigarette to the ground, grinding it out with his toe. "Why?" he asked acidly.

"I needed to see Jimmy. Please, don't be angry."

"And did you?"

Andy nodded. "We had a good talk."

"What did he have to say?"

"He's going away soon. He's moving to London." Andy saw the momentary flicker of panic on Thomas' face before the butler turned on his heel and walked away.


	5. Chapter 5

That evening, Thomas approached Lord Grantham in the library before he rang the dressing gong. "May I please have a word, m'lord?"

The Earl was at his desk sorting through a pile of paperwork. "What is it, Barrow?" he replied distractedly.

"I was in York a few days ago and ran into Jimmy Kent—that is, James—the former footman."

"Oh?" Lord Grantham still didn't look up from his desk.

"He's been working in a pub there, but he's anxious to get back into service." He paused. "With Mr. Molesley's promotion, we're short a footman—"

"And you wish to rehire him."

"Yes, Your Lordship. I do."

Lord Grantham gave Thomas his full attention now. "Do you know why I dismissed him?"

"I believe so."

"Then you know why I couldn't have him here."

"He's very sorry for what he did, and he'd like another chance."

The peer studied his new butler carefully. "I should have thought you'd be happy to have him gone after all that unpleasantness a few years back unless … " He left the sentence unfinished.

Thomas felt the blood rush to his cheeks. "No, m'lord, there's nothing like that, but he was a good worker, and he knows Downton."

Lord Grantham frowned. "I don't think so, Barrow."

"But Your Lordship—" Thomas pleaded.

"No."

"If you could just see fit to give him another chance," Thomas wheedled.

The Earl's voice rose ominously. "I've told you my answer, Barrow. Don't make me regret giving you this job."

Thomas merely nodded and exited the room, his broad shoulders bowed.

* * *

Jimmy spent a long sleepless night thinking about his life and where it was headed. It was somewhat unusual for him, as he wasn't a man much given to introspection, but Andy's visit had stirred up something in him. Ever since leaving Downton Abbey, he had been on a downward trajectory beginning with his broken engagement. He knew he hadn't really loved the girl, not the way Andy loved Thomas, wholly and unselfishly. She had wounded his pride, not his heart, and he saw now that she was right to break things off with him. It would never have worked. He was done wallowing in self-pity, settling for work that was beneath his talents. It was good that he was going to London where he could make a fresh start. Hopefully, he could get back into service and begin to fashion a real life for himself the way that Thomas had.

 _Thomas._ Jimmy would never have believed that he could be friends with a man like that, especially after "the incident." Now, he couldn't imagine life without him in it. In spite of all the pain and misunderstandings they'd been through, they had managed to forge a strong bond, but at last, their complicated dance was at an end.

* * *

Andy wasn't really surprised the next morning to find Thomas missing. It wasn't hard to guess where he had gone. Andy reckoned that he was probably on his way to York at that very moment, drawn to Jimmy like a moth to a flame.

* * *

Thomas looked up at the three balls in front of the establishment and entered. It was the fourth of its kind that he had frequented that morning, the previous three meeting without success. The proprietor was a small man with a world-weary expression born of decades dealing with desperate people facing impossible choices. He watched in curiosity as the tall, elegant man approached the counter. "May I help you, sir?"

"Yes, I'm looking for a pocket watch as a gift for a friend." Thomas went on to describe what he wanted.

The pawnbroker nodded in understanding. "I think I have just the thing." He rummaged around under the counter before locating the item. "I remember the young man who brought it in was loath to part with it, mighty broken up about it, he was."

Thomas immediately recognized the watch as the one once belonging to Jimmy. He examined the timepiece carefully, pretending to consider its merits. "Yes, alright, I'll have it. How much?" After agreeing on a price, he mused, "I wonder why the owner didn't come back to claim it."

"They almost never do, sir."

* * *

Jimmy was packing up his few possessions. He heard a knock and looked up to see Thomas standing in the doorway. "I've been expecting you," Jimmy told him.

Thomas looked a bit surprised. "You knew I'd be coming?"

"I thought you would."

The butler sat down gingerly on one of the rickety chairs, hoping it wouldn't collapse under his weight.

"You know then that Andy came to see me yesterday."

Thomas nodded. "He told me when he got back. He said you're going away."

"I've been offered a footman job at a house in London. My train is leaving soon."

Thomas studied the other man carefully. He was a much better liar than Andy. "I asked Lord Grantham about giving you your old job back, but he said no. He got pretty angry about it too. I just wanted you to know I tried."

"Thank you for that."

"Please, don't go, Jimmy. There must be an opening somewhere near Downton. Let me see what I can come up with."

"You've done enough for me. It's time I learn to stand on my own two feet."

Thomas heard a new determination in his voice that hadn't been there before. He pulled the watch from his pocket. "Here. You'll want to take this with you."

Jimmy took the timepiece, clutching it tightly in his hand. "I'll never let it go again. I promise. Thank you, Thomas."

"Will you drop me a line when you get to wherever you're going?"

Jimmy hesitated. "I think it's better if we make a clean break of it this time."

"I'll never see you again, will I?"

Jimmy lowered his eyes. "Hang on to Andy. I think I underestimated him. He's really something."

Thomas smiled. "Don't I know it."

"He loves you very much."

"And I love him." Thomas said it with a quiet grace and dignity that lent more power to the words.

"I hope I find that with someone one day," Jimmy spoke wistfully.

"Of course, you will, and she'll be a very lucky woman. Do you need any money?"

"No, I still have what you gave me last time, well most of it anyway. It's enough to get me to London and a little extra besides. I'll pay you back when I can, for the watch too."

"Forget about it."

"I'd better go now, or I'll miss my train."

"Can I give you a hug?" Thomas was quick to add, "Just a hug." He wrapped his arms around the smaller man, fighting back the tears. "Goodbye, Jimmy." He turned and left without looking back.

Thomas returned to the Abbey after lunch. He immediately retreated into his pantry and closed the door. He wanted nothing more than to lay his head on his desk and dissolve into tears, but he was a butler now, and butlers didn't cry. There was a knock on the door, and Andy entered wearing a questioning look. He shut the door behind him. "He's gone," Thomas stated simply.

"Did you get to say goodbye?"

Thomas nodded.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes—or at least I will be."

Andy suddenly looked very young and vulnerable. "Were you still in love with him?" He had to ask the question even though he was afraid of hearing the answer.

Thomas chose his words carefully. "I was attracted to him. I won't deny it. I did love him once, but we were never going to be anything more than good friends. Maybe at one time, I would have settled for that, but I don't have to settle anymore." He paused. "I realize now that I deserve to be with someone who loves me back, and that was never going to be Jimmy."

"No," Andy agreed.

"That someone is you, I'm afraid. You're stuck with me now."

Andy smiled sweetly. "Do you mean it?"

"I do. Now get out of here and let me sort through all these bloody footman applications. I've got a job to do."


	6. Chapter 6

The day after Jimmy's departure, Thomas was winding one of the many clocks at the Abbey when Lord Grantham approached him. "Oh, Barrow, I've been giving some thought to our conversation of the other night."

Thomas was puzzled. "M'lord?"

"You wished to rehire James, and I told you no, but I've reconsidered the matter. You're the butler now, and that decision should lie with you. I won't object if you want to give him another chance."

Thomas smiled broadly. "Do you mean it?"

The Earl returned the smile. "I do, but remember, Barrow, you're responsible for making sure he behaves himself."

"I understand, m'lord. Thank you." Thomas immediately went in search of Andy. He found the footman waiting to take up the family's tea. He could barely contain his excitement. "Andy, may I see you in my pantry?" Andy looked surprised but followed him dutifully. Thomas motioned for the younger man to close the door. His face lit up as he said, "His Lordship just told me he changed his mind, and he's allowing me to hire Jimmy back after all."

Andy felt his heart sink. "But he's in London, and you have no way of contacting him."

"I thought of that. I'll ask that old boss of his. He might know where to find him."

Andy's face clearly showed his unhappiness. "He might not want to come back."

"I think I can convince him, and you'll finally have someone to help you."

Andy didn't answer. He'd rather do the work of two footmen forever than have Jimmy Kent there.

Thomas sensed his reluctance. "Look, I know the two of you didn't get off to a great start, but I think you'll really like him when you get to know him. You might even become friends."

 _No chance of that_ , Andy thought.

Thomas became serious. "I won't ask him though if you say no. I mean it."

Andy wanted to say no, to scream it to the heavens even, but he saw how happy Thomas was and hated to disappoint him. And Jimmy had promised to stay away. Andy hoped, rather than believed, that the former footman would honor that vow. "Well, go on then."

Thomas enveloped him in a hug. "Thank you, Andy."

One afternoon several days later, Thomas found himself in York again, sitting at the bar with a pint in front of him, a cigarette clutched in his right hand. He was waiting for a word with the proprietor, Mr. Jennings, who had just stepped through the door. "Mr. Jennings, I don't know if you remember me. I was here last week with Jimmy Kent." Jennings only grunted. Thomas continued undeterred. "I know he's left now, but I need to get in touch with him. It's very important."

"What, did you lose him again?" The proprietor broke into a hearty laugh, overcome by his own wit.

"Did he leave an address or any way to contact him?"

Jennings examined Thomas shrewdly, noting his dapper appearance. "I might have gotten a letter from him with an address for me to send what's owing, but I'm not sure where I put it."

Thomas reached into his wallet and pulled out a note. "Perhaps this will help you remember."

The barman pretended to consider. "No, I can't say that it does."

Thomas gave him a look of disgust and pulled out another note. "Will this do it?"

Jennings snatched up the notes and stuffed them into the pocket of his dirty apron. He reached for an envelope beside the cash register and copied the return address for Thomas. "There you go."

"Thank you, Mr. Jennings. I'm much obliged, I'm sure," Thomas said acidly.

That evening, Thomas wrote to Jimmy with his offer. There was nothing to do now but wait. A week passed without any reply. Andy felt his sense of impending doom lifting while in turn, Thomas became increasingly anxious. "Why hasn't he written back?" the older man kept asking. His famously mercurial temper became even more brittle. Twice, he scolded the maids when he found them gossiping in the corridor, and once, he dressed down a hallboy for chewing gum. Everyone avoided him as much as possible, not wishing to become a victim of his ill humor. Even Andy couldn't lift him out of his foul mood.

Then unexpectedly one morning at breakfast, Andy looked up to see Jimmy standing in the doorway holding a small valise, cloth cap in hand. "Hello," the newcomer said shyly.

"Jimmy!" Thomas leaped out of his chair. "Does this mean you're here to take the job?"

"If you still want me."

"Of course, we want you." He turned to the other servants. "For those of you who are new around here, this is Jimmy Kent. He used to work here as a footman, and now he'll to be joining us again." Thomas' smile was so wide that it threatened to split his face in two. Andy put down the piece of toast he was nibbling on, no longer hungry. He felt like he was going to be sick. Thomas saw Jimmy's eyes scan the contents of the table hungrily and read his thoughts. "Sit down and have some breakfast. You can't work on an empty stomach."

One of the hallboys rose to make room for the prodigal employee. He retrieved a bowl of thick porridge that Thomas had ladled out, set it in front of Jimmy, and poured him a cup of tea. Jimmy tucked in greedily before looking up to see Andy glaring at him. "Hello, Andy," he said, looking slightly guilty.

Andy didn't reply and promptly left the servants' hall. He stormed into the kitchen where Mrs. Patmore and the kitchen maids were finishing the preparations for the upstairs breakfast. Seeing the expression of anger on his face, Daisy asked, "Is something wrong, Andy?"

"Jimmy is back. Mr. Barrow gave him the footman job."

"What? Our Jimmy?"

"He may be yours, but he's not mine."

Mrs. Patmore smiled knowingly. "Oh, I see." Andy picked up the tray with the dishes for upstairs and stomped out.

"I wonder what that was about," Daisy mused.

"I'd say we're in for some fireworks before it's all over."

Andy made his way to the dining room and was setting out the covered dishes on the sideboard when Thomas strolled in. Andy noted that he was whistling, actually whistling. He approached Andy smiling, "Jimmy asked if he could have his old room back. I told him I didn't think you'd mind changing."

Andy's mouth dropped open. His room was directly across from Thomas', making it convenient for the butler to slip in and out without being seen. Now he wanted to have Jimmy there instead? "I'll move my things out when breakfast is over."

Later, he was removing the items from his dresser when Jimmy appeared in the doorway saying, "I hope you don't mind changing rooms. Thomas said it would be alright."

Andy didn't answer. "Why are you here, Jimmy, after you promised me you'd go away and leave us alone? Why did you come back?"

Jimmy looked uncomfortable. "Thomas said you'd agreed to it."

"Well, what else could I say when he asked? I trusted you to say no, but I should have known you wouldn't keep your word." Andy gathered the remainder of his things and left.


	7. Chapter 7

The weeks passed, and Jimmy became more like his old self. His face filled out, and his livery hugged his body once again. The maids were quick to notice, flitting around him like honeybees to a flower. He was soon back to his old jaunty ways, flirting with the female members of staff and joking with the men.

One evening, Thomas and Jimmy were anxious to resurrect an old pastime of theirs, playing cards after dinner. Thomas knew it wouldn't befit his new position as butler to be seen gambling in the servants' hall, so they moved the game upstairs to his room. "Are you coming, Andy?"

Andy simply shook his head and went off to join the hallboys while Thomas looked on with a puzzled expression.

Once upstairs, the two men pulled over a small table and placed it between them, Jimmy sitting in the armchair and Thomas on the bed. Jimmy dealt the first hand while Thomas pulled out an opened bottle of whiskey from his night table. He took a long swallow before offering it to the other man. "I don't think His Lordship will miss it, do you?"

Jimmy grinned. "Why, Mr. Barrow, I'm shocked."

"I doubt that."

Jimmy took a drink also. "Don't let Andy find out."

At the mention of the other footman's name, Thomas frowned. "Something's been bothering him lately. I wish I knew what it was."

"He doesn't want me here."

"That's not true. He told me I could ask you."

Jimmy raised his eyebrows. "Did you need his permission?"

Thomas was uncomfortable discussing his and Andy's relationship with Jimmy, and he sensed that it made Jimmy uncomfortable too. "Of course not, but I wanted to make sure he had no objections."

To Jimmy, it sounded like much the same thing.

The night wore on with both men breaking even. "I think it's a good time to call it a night," Thomas declared. They were definitely feeling the effects of the whiskey now.

"There was something I wanted to ask you first." Jimmy rose and sat down casually beside Thomas on the bed. The butler was surprised at that but put it down to lowered inhibitions from the drink. He was close enough to smell Jimmy: cigarettes and alcohol mixed with the pomade he used in his hair, combined with a musky scent that was all his own. Thomas felt an intoxication that had nothing to do with the whiskey. He crossed his legs in an attempt to hide his growing excitement. "I am the first footman, aren't I?" Jimmy asked him.

"What?" Thomas couldn't think of anything as mundane as work with his trousers feeling this tight. He couldn't take his eyes off Jimmy's full, soft lips and reached for a pillow, setting it on his lap.

Jimmy continued, seemingly unaware of the other man's distress. "Your letter didn't say, but I was first footman before, and I did replace Molesley who had that place before me. I just wanted to make sure, is all." He looked Thomas in the eye. "So am I?"

Thomas was desperate for relief, and the sight of Jimmy's cornflower-blue eyes wasn't helping matters. "I suppose so."

"I'll see you in the morning then." Jimmy bounced up and left the room.

Andy passed him in the corridor without speaking and came in to say a quick goodnight to Thomas. He found the butler standing beside his bed with his face to the wall. "I'm turning in now. I just wanted to say goodnight."

"Goodnight," Thomas replied in a voice he hoped sounded normal, without turning around.

Andy's brow wrinkled. "Is anything wrong?" He approached the other man and gently touched his arm. It was then that he noticed the enormous bulge in Thomas' trousers. "Oh, for God's sake," he spat disgustedly before leaving the room, slamming the door behind him.

The next evening, the two footmen were waiting in the kitchen to take up the family's dinner. Mrs. Patmore loaded a platter of Chicken Kiev onto one large tray while Daisy did the same with the asparagus and hollandaise sauce on another. Jimmy promptly grabbed the tray with the chicken and exited the kitchen, leaving an embarrassed Andy to follow behind with the vegetables. Daisy was quick to note that it was the same thing Jimmy had done to her beloved Alfred. Looking up at Andy, she asked, "Why are you letting Jimmy take up the meat? You're the first footman, aren't you?"

"Mr. Barrow never really said but … " Andy's voice trailed off.

Daisy frowned. Since beginning her studies, she was less afraid to speak out against injustice. "Don't let Jimmy push you around. You need to stand up to him."

Andy didn't respond and left the kitchen with his head down.

"It's not right," Daisy opined to Mrs. Patmore.

"Maybe not, but if you take my advice, you'll stay out of it. It's for Mr. Barrow to decide." She added, more to herself than to Daisy, "I only hope he makes the right choice."

Upstairs, Thomas served the wine and watched the two footmen glide gracefully around the table, one small and golden-haired, and the other tall with a cap of dark curls. They were as different as night and day, but together they were the most important people in the world to him. After settling the ladies for the evening, all three men returned downstairs for their dinner where Andy confronted Jimmy. "What was that about before?"

Jimmy just fixed him with a questioning look.

"Why did you take up the meat and leave me the veg?"

"Because I'm the first footman."

"Oh really, and who said that?"

"Thomas, of course. Didn't he tell you?" Jimmy replied innocently.

Andy turned and stormed off, hurt and humiliation clearly written on his face. That night, he heard the butler enter his room and perch on the bed. He promptly sprang upright. "What are you doing here, Thomas?"

Barrow was taken aback. "I wanted to be with you. We haven't been alone in a while."

"I wonder why that is."

"Is something wrong?" he sounded confused.

"Did you really make Jimmy first footman?"

Thomas gave a little laugh. "He asked me, and I said yes without thinking. First footman, second footman, what does it matter anymore?"

"It matters to me. I'm taller, and I've been here longer."

"Actually, Jimmy was here first."

"Before he got the sack, you mean?" Andy paused to get his temper under control. "How would you have felt if Daisy's husband had been made first footman over you?"

It was a fair question. Thomas knew he would have been livid and probably quit if William had been promoted over him. "I'm sorry, Andy. You're right. I'll straighten it out in the morning. It's just that when he asked me, I couldn't really think. I guess it was the whiskey."

"Or maybe the blood from your brain was somewhere else." Andy hated the way he sounded to himself.

"You know there's nothing going on between Jimmy and me. How could there be?"

"But you wish there were. If he gave you the chance, you'd be with him like a shot, wouldn't you?"

Thomas didn't answer.

"Wouldn't you?" Andy repeated, although they both knew the answer.


	8. Chapter 8

Andy had become silent of late, his normally friendly, outgoing personality had grown somber and subdued. The other servants saw that something was bothering him and were quick to offer an encouraging word or a pat on the back. He was a great favorite downstairs, and they hated to see him looking forlorn. It hurt Thomas even more to see him so down, as he knew he was to blame. He tried to reassure the young man that nothing had changed between them, but they both knew that wasn't altogether true. Thomas kept replaying Andy's question about Jimmy in his head. _If he gave you the chance, you'd be with him like a shot, wouldn't you?_ But Jimmy was a ladies' man, so they could never be more than friends, even if Thomas wished things could be different.

One day, Andy was hanging about the kitchen, not having anything better to do. He liked the smell of cooking as it always reminded him of home. Mrs. Patmore handed him a biscuit still warm from the oven. "What's wrong, lad?" she asked sympathetically.

Andy liked Mrs. Patmore. She could be brusque and a bit sharp at times, but he thought her a very wise and kind-hearted woman. "Mr. Barrow spends a lot of time with Jimmy, doesn't he?"

"They were friends when Jimmy worked here before. I expect they have a lot of catching up to do." She hadn't forgotten the drama a few years back between Daisy, Alfred, Ivy, and Jimmy. Now history seemed to be repeating itself. She was happy to be past all that herself, but she remembered what it was like to be young and have one's heart broken. "Give him time. He'll be back."

"Do you really think so?"

"I do. Why would anyone settle for sardines when they could have caviar?" She added gruffly, "Now be off with you. I have work to do, even if you haven't." Andy wasn't exactly sure what caviar was, but he left the kitchen feeling a little better.

* * *

Miss Baxter saw what was going on, having known about Thomas since they were young. That evening, she spotted him in the courtyard smoking and joined him there. It was one of the few places they could talk without being overheard. "A penny for your thoughts," she joked.

Thomas was glad for the distraction. "They're not worth it." Phyllis was the closest thing to a female friend he had at the Abbey due to their families' long history. He genuinely liked her and respected her, especially knowing all she'd been through.

"I think I can guess," she began. Thomas took a long pull from his cigarette and didn't respond. "Andy is hurting, Mr. Barrow."

"I know," Thomas admitted.

"He—cares about you very much." She almost said "loves" but stopped herself in time.

"And I care about him too," Thomas continued the euphemism, "but I can't make him believe that."

Phyllis knew she had to proceed carefully. One wrong word and Thomas would shut down. "You've been spending a lot of time with Jimmy since he came back," she ventured.

"We're good friends, that's all."

"I'm not sure Andy believes that."

Thomas fidgeted uncomfortably. "He doesn't understand. Jimmy's not like us. What else could there be?"

"Andy is the best thing that ever happened to you, but you're going to lose him if you're not careful. Talk to him," she pleaded, "before it's too late." The gentle woman rose and walked away before he could respond.

Thomas was confused. He did love Andy very much. Their relationship was sweet and easy and uncomplicated. Jimmy was none of those things, but Thomas kept feeling himself pulled in that direction. He longed to have Jimmy in that way, to kiss his full, soft lips and run his hands over Jimmy's smooth, hairless chest. He wanted to be the first to penetrate the footman and watch his angelic face dissolve into an expression of ecstasy. Thomas felt a familiar excitement building between his legs. Not again. With a rueful laugh, he wondered if old Carson ever had these problems.

After everyone was in bed, Thomas slipped into Andy's room. The footman raised himself up to a sitting position without speaking. Now that he was there, Thomas didn't know how to begin. "I think we need to talk."

Andy flicked on the lamp while Thomas lowered himself onto the bed.

Thomas noticed that the younger man's dark curls were sticking up all over his head. Normally he would have smoothed them down, but now such a familiar gesture felt like a liberty. "I know you've been unhappy lately, and if that's my fault, I'm sorry. What can I do to fix it?"

Andy remained silent.

"Won't you even talk to me?"

"What good would it do? It won't change anything."

"I feel like we're drifting apart, and I hate it. I want to be close to you again." Thomas leaned in to kiss him, but Andy remained rigid. "You know I love you, don't you?"

"Maybe you do, at least a little, but I'm not enough for you, am I?"

Thomas looked confused. "What do you mean? Of course, you're enough."

Andy shook his head. "I don't excite you the way Jimmy does. I know I'm not as experienced as you in bed, but I've tried hard to please you."

"You have nothing to worry about in that department," Thomas assured him.

"When we first got together, I used to wonder what you saw in me. You're handsome and clever and sophisticated while I'm none of those things. You could have anyone you wanted, but you chose me. I was so proud to be with a man like you."

"Oh no, Andy. I'm the one who should be proud that someone as young and sweet as you would even look at a grumpy, old bugger like me."

"We were happy together for a while, weren't we, really happy? That is until Jimmy came back to Downton, and everything changed between us."

"Nothing's changed between us. Jimmy and I are just friends. He'd never think of me that way."

"That doesn't stop you from thinking of him that way, and I'm not so sure you couldn't have him. I've seen the way he looks at you when he thinks no one is watching."

"You're wrong. The one time I kissed him, he nearly got me sacked without a reference and thrown in prison."

"Things might have changed since then."

Thomas paused to consider his words. Could Andy be right?

"I think it's better if we end things between us right now."

"What? No, Andy. We can get through this."

"From now on, we work together. That's it."

Thomas looked aghast. "You don't mean that. You're just upset. I can fix this. Give me a chance."

"Goodnight, Mr. Barrow." Andy turned off the lamp and scooted back under the covers.


	9. Chapter 9

The next day, Jimmy and Andy were polishing silver in the servants' hall before dinner. Andy didn't speak, keeping his eyes on his work. Jimmy kept shooting him little furtive glances. "Is anything wrong, Andy? You seem really quiet lately."

"I'm fine, Jimmy, thank you."

Jimmy got up to stretch his legs. "Well, whatever it is, it must be catching. Thomas hasn't said two words all day. What's that about?"

"You'd have to ask Mr. Barrow."

Jimmy raised his eyebrows. " _Mr. Barrow?_ Pretty formal for a bloke you're having sex with." Andy gritted his teeth as Jimmy continued. "I saw him coming out of your room last night. He didn't look very happy. Isn't that supposed to be your job?"

Without thinking, Andy leaped out of his chair, knocking it to the floor, along with some of the silver. His fist swung around, connecting hard with Jimmy's face and sending him reeling into the wall headfirst. Jimmy slid to the floor, looking dazed, but before he could get up, Andy was on top of him. Daisy heard the ruckus from the kitchen and was first on the scene. She immediately went in search of Thomas.

The butler was in his pantry decanting the wine for dinner. All of a sudden, the door flew open, and the terrified assistant cook burst in, "You'd better come quick, Mr. Barrow. They're fighting in the servants' hall."

Thomas looked up in astonishment but followed her without question. Upon reaching the hall, he saw the two footmen rolling around on the floor amid overturned chairs and strewn pieces of silver. "Jimmy, Andy, stop!" The young men took no notice. The other servants had heard the commotion and crowded around in horror except for the hallboys who were eagerly cheering them on. "Alright, everybody out," Thomas growled angrily. "Now!" he shouted. He grabbed Andy by one long arm and tried to pull him off Jimmy, but the footman was too strong. He then wrapped both arms tightly around his chest and slowly pried him from the smaller man, depositing him a safe distance away.

Thomas saw that both men were covered in blood, but whose blood and from where, he couldn't immediately tell. He soon discovered that Jimmy had gotten the worst of it. He had a growing lump on his forehead as well as a rapidly swelling eye that was already beginning to darken, while blood ran from his nose in a steady stream. Andy had blood dripping down onto his shirt front from a split bottom lip. "What's this all about?" Thomas asked them.

"He started it," Jimmy accused, looking angrily at Andy. Andy merely glared back in silence, longing to blacken Jimmy's other eye.

"Andy?" Thomas turned to him expectantly.

"Ask him."

Thomas ran a hand through his graying hair. This was getting them nowhere. "Lordy, look at the two of you. What will I tell His Lordship? Go upstairs and clean yourselves up. I'll be right there." He was remembering another fight in the servants' hall years earlier between William Mason and himself. What was it about footmen that made them want to tear each other apart? He found one of the housemaids and instructed her to wash away the blood and put things right.

Upstairs he saw Jimmy standing in the bathroom, studying his battered face in the glass while holding a handkerchief to his bloody nose. Upon seeing the butler, he whined, "Look what he did to me."

Thomas immediately snapped into ex-medic mode, examining him carefully. "Your nose doesn't seem to be broken." He ran a hand over the huge, purple lump on Jimmy's forehead, causing him to wince, and then around the half-closed eye. "You'll live. What happened?"

"We were just talking, and he attacked me. I had to defend myself, didn't I?"

"Change your shirt and come downstairs." Thomas made his way down the corridor to check on Andy, but the footman stomped past him. "Andy?"

The other man pretended not to hear and continued on.

"Andy, get back here. That's an order."

Andy returned, wearing a look of rage. "Yes, Mr. Barrow?"

"Come with me." Thomas led the man to his room and motioned for him to sit down. "Let me take a look at you." The cut lip was swollen and bruised, but it had stopped bleeding. "It doesn't look too deep. I don't think you'll need stitches."

"I'm fine, Mr. Barrow. Can I go now?"

"Not until you tell me what happened."

"You should ask Jimmy."

"I did, but he didn't want to talk about it either." He took Andy's bruised-knuckled hand, but the footman pulled it back. Thomas tried to hide his hurt. "I have to go ring the dressing gong now. Change your shirt and come downstairs." Thomas was waiting in the servants' hall when the two men descended. The silver had all been picked up and the chairs put back in place. He told Jimmy, "Go find another livery. It might not fit exactly, but at least it won't be covered in bloodstains."

At dinner that night, there were audible gasps from the Crawley women upon seeing the footmen's injured faces. Lord Grantham fixed Thomas with a look of barely suppressed fury. "Barrow, I'll see you after dinner in the library."

"Yes, m'lord." Thomas cringed, knowing what he was in for.

His Lordship was already waiting for him later when the butler arrived. He didn't bother with the usual niceties. "Now will you please tell me why my two footmen look like a couple of prizefighters?"

Thomas offered him an apologetic smile and tried to play the whole thing down. "You know what lads are like, m'lord. Tempers get out of control sometimes. They'll probably have forgotten all about it by tomorrow."

The Earl was in no mood to be placated. "What was the fight about?"

"I don't know. Neither of them would tell me. I'm sure it's nothing, though."

"Are they alright?"

"I think so, m'lord."

Lord Grantham fixed Thomas with an angry glare. "I won't have my servants brawling like hooligans. If they can't work together, one of them will have to go."

Thomas felt a wave of fear at the thought of parting with either of them. "I'll make sure they behave themselves."

"See that you do."

Thomas gave him a little nod and left the room.

Dinner downstairs that night was a subdued affair. Thomas spoke little, still stinging from Lord Grantham's reprimand. Neither Jimmy nor Andy ate much, whether from pain or anger, and silently pushed the food around their plates. The other servants kept sneaking little peeks at their bruised and swollen faces. When they were finished, Thomas announced, "Andy, Jimmy, I want to see you in my pantry—now." The two young men followed him dutifully, shutting the door behind them. Thomas indicated that they were to be seated in the chairs in front of his desk. He wanted to thump both of them for putting him in this position. "What am I going to do with you two? His Lordship said if you can't get along, one of you will have to leave."

"Well, it won't be me," Jimmy snarled, running a hand over his throbbing, aching head.

Andy felt his hand balling into a fist again. "No, I'll go. As soon as I find another job, I'll be gone."

"What?" Thomas looked panicked.

"Will you give me a good reference?"

"I would if you were leaving, but you're not."

"You can't stop me, Mr. Barrow. My mind is made up." Andy left the other two men sitting there in stunned silence.


	10. Chapter 10

That night, Thomas slipped into Andy's room in the old familiar way, still upset by his earlier declaration. Andy immediately leaped out of bed. "You shouldn't be here, Mr. Barrow."

"I just want to talk, that's all."

"You shouldn't be here, Mr. Barrow," Andy repeated, turning on his bedside lamp. He stared suspiciously at the butler but finally sank back down.

Thomas pulled up a small chair and took a seat. "I thought your lip might be hurting, so I brought you some ice." Andy looked at him warily, causing the butler to snap, "For God's sake, it's only ice. It'll help it feel better."

"Thank you." Andy took the ice and pressed it gently against his mouth.

"Now what's all this nonsense about you leaving?"

"It's not nonsense. I've already sent out applications."

Thomas was flabbergasted. "You were already making plans to go before today? Then this isn't about the fight?"

The footman didn't answer.

"Don't do this, Andy, I beg you."

"I don't want to be here anymore."

"Even if you hate me right now, please don't leave."

"I could never hate you, but it hurts too much to stay."

"This is all because of Jimmy, isn't it? I know you've never really liked him."

"But I do like Jimmy. He reminds me of you. I'm not going because of him."

Thomas looked confused. "Then why—"

"I love you, Thomas, but I'm not willing to settle for only half of you."

The butler nodded. He finally understood. "You're asking me to choose."

"No. I've already made that choice for both of us."

"Because I'd choose you, of course."

"I don't believe that."

"Then it's up to me to convince you."

"It's too late, Mr. Barrow."

Thomas noted that he was back to being "Mr. Barrow." He was feeling desperate now. "Don't say that, Andy. Please, don't say that."

"I think you should go back to your own room. Goodnight."

Thomas left wordlessly as Andy turned off the lamp.

The next morning before going downstairs, Andy sought out Jimmy in his room while he was getting dressed. Andy noticed that his injuries looked much worse than they had the night before. His eye was swollen shut now and the lump on his forehead had grown enormous overnight. "What do you want?" Jimmy growled at him.

"I came to apologize for hitting you yesterday. I'm sorry that I hurt you."

"If you hadn't caught me off guard, you'd be the one looking like this instead of me," Jimmy postured. "Next time, give me a little warning before you decide to go mad."

"There won't be a next time. I promise." Andy detested violence, and it sickened him to think he was responsible for the other man's battered appearance. "It was really Mr. Barrow that I was upset with, not you."

"So why am I the one with the black eye and not him?"

"You're right. I'm really sorry." He offered his hand to the other footman.

Jimmy softened and shook the proffered hand. It was impossible to stay angry with the sweet, gentle Andy. "I'm sorry too—about what I said. I didn't mean it."

"I know." Andy turned to go.

"Will you really leave Downton?"

Andy nodded.

"What about Thomas?"

"It's over between us. He's yours now."

"What do you mean he's mine? I'm not a bloody—uh—not like the two of you." Jimmy corrected himself in time, wisely considering his remaining good eye.

Andy didn't reply and started downstairs for his breakfast. Thomas was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. "Andy," he nodded a greeting, "how's your lip today?"

"It's much better, thank you, Mr. Barrow."

It frustrated the butler to be conversing so formally with a man he loved, someone he knew intimately on every level, but he guessed he was lucky that they were speaking at all.

Jimmy came down next. Thomas took one look at him and knew he couldn't be seen above stairs. "You'd better stay out of sight today. I'll help Andy myself." Before sitting down, he distributed the morning post. He saw that Andy had received a letter from London, probably from some member of his large and close-knit family. After they had finished eating, Thomas assisted Andy in bringing up the breakfast items for the family's meal. "I see you got a letter from London. Is it from Lucy?" Andy's free-spirited little sister was a favorite of his.

"Actually, it's an answer to one of my job applications. They accepted my terms and want me to start work as soon as possible, so this is my official notice. I'll serve out my month if I have to, but then, I'll be going."

"Oh, Andy, no."

"It will be nice to be close to home again, so I'll be able to see my mum more often."

"We'll talk about this later," Thomas whispered as Lord Grantham entered the room. The butler presided next to the sideboard while the family members ate their breakfast. As always, his face remained impassive, revealing nothing of the dark thoughts churning inside his head.

Andy returned downstairs again until it was time to clear. He saw Jimmy still seated in the servants' hall, surrounded by a small group of maids patting and caressing his injured face with little mews of sympathy. He was obviously enjoying all the attention until the housekeeper shooed the young women away. Andy smiled in spite of himself before feeling his lip scream an objection. None of the maids had been concerned about his face, but then, he wasn't pretty like Jimmy. He sat down across from the other footman and told him about his job offer. Instead of the gleeful reaction he expected, Jimmy looked unhappy and didn't reply.

Later, Andy spotted Thomas and Jimmy out in the courtyard together. The two were locked in conversation, looking very intense. Andy wondered what it was about, but he supposed it didn't matter anymore. Soon he would be working in a new house with a new group of people, and he would learn to forget Thomas Barrow. Outside, the two men were smoking. "Andy said you two are finished. Is that true?" Jimmy asked.

Thomas couldn't bring himself to answer.

"Will he really go away, do you think?"

"I can't very well stop him, as much as I might want to."

"What happened?"

Thomas took a long pull from his cigarette. He'd been asking himself the same question. "Andy thinks I still have feelings for you."

"I hope you told him that was over a long time ago." When there was no reply, he repeated. "You did tell him, didn't you?"

Thomas proceeded carefully. "The thing is he thought you might feel the same way." He couldn't look at Jimmy. He couldn't bear to see his expression of anger and disgust. He was quick to add, "He's wrong, of course."

"Yes."

Thomas continued on, more to himself than to Jimmy. "You've never thought about me like that. You've never wondered what it would be like to be together in that way."

Jimmy couldn't think. The world seemed to be spinning around him suddenly, and he felt like he might be sick. His headache from the day before had returned with a vengeance. "My head is splitting. Since you're not using me today, I think I'll go upstairs for a lie down until luncheon." He ground out his cigarette with his toe and returned inside. Thomas watched him go with a puzzled look on his face.


	11. Chapter 11

Jimmy made his way slowly up the back stairs to his room. He removed his livery, stripping down to his undergarments before easing himself into bed. His head was pounding, and he felt nauseated. He remembered how when he was ill as a little boy, his mother would sit beside his bed and watch over him, but she was gone now, a victim of Spanish flu, while his father had died in the war. He had no one left to watch over him now, and he found himself feeling very blue. There was a knock on the door, and Thomas stepped into the room carrying a glass. "I brought you a headache powder."

Jimmy sat up and took the glass from him. "Thanks. You've always looked out for me, haven't you? Like at that fair in Thirsk and all those times with Carson. You must be my guardian angel."

Thomas laughed at that. "I'm no one's idea of an angel." He began to wonder just how hard Jimmy had hit his head.

"You've always been so good to me, but I haven't always been good to you. I'm sorry about all that trouble I put you through a few years back."

"It's forgotten," the butler assured him.

"You're a good friend, Thomas, probably my only friend."

"That's not true. Andy told me he likes you in spite of whatever happened between you yesterday."

"Did he? I'm glad." Jimmy smiled weakly.

Thomas grinned. "And half the maids are dying for love of you."

"I don't love any of them, though. Sometimes I'm not sure I can love anyone."

Thomas wondered what had brought all this on. Was it the bump on the head, or was it something else? He took the empty glass from Jimmy's hand. "You should try to sleep. I think you might have a concussion. Stay in bed today. I'll bring up your lunch later."

"Alright." Jimmy burrowed down into the bed and closed his eyes. Even with his battered face, Thomas thought him very handsome. He waited until the footman was asleep before tiptoeing out of the room.

A short time later, Lord Grantham spotted him passing through the great hall. "Oh, Barrow, Her Ladyship was asking about James. How is he today?"

Thomas wasn't anxious to continue their discussion of the night before. "He's better, m'lord," he lied. "He has a bit of a headache, that's all."

"I'm not surprised, but I understand it was Andrew who started the fight."

Thomas wondered from whom he had heard that—probably that clot, Molesley.

"It doesn't sound like Andrew, but perhaps James provoked him in some way." The Earl was searching Thomas' face for any sign that he might not be sharing all he knew.

"I gave them both a good talking to last night, m'lord. I don't think we'll have any more trouble like that."

"I should hope not. You haven't forgotten that we're having a dinner party on Friday? Will James look presentable by then?"

Thomas knew it would take weeks for the bruises to fade away, as did Lord Grantham. "Maybe not quite that soon. Perhaps Mr. Molesley could fill in when we're entertaining." It would serve the valet right for opening his mouth about the fight.

"Hmm," the Earl replied absently. "But I hope you'll find James work to keep him occupied downstairs."

Thomas offered him a wide, insincere smile. "Of course, m'lord. There's always plenty to do." He didn't mention that the footman was upstairs, sound asleep in his bed.

While Thomas was sparring with Lord Grantham and Jimmy was sleeping, Andy was having a cup of tea in the servants' hall with Daisy. They had become good friends since he came to Downton. She handed him a treacle tart, knowing he had a sweet tooth. "Everyone's still talking about the fight yesterday between you and Jimmy. What was it about?"

Andy cringed. He was deeply ashamed of his actions and wanted to forget it ever happened. "Nothing. It doesn't matter now. I'll be going away soon."

Daisy looked surprised. "You're leaving Downton? Did Mr. Barrow sack you?"

"No. I found another position in London, and I turned in my notice."

"Don't you like it here?"

Andy tried to explain. "I do, but I can't stay."

"Mr. Barrow will be sad if you leave. He's ever so much nicer since you came. He smiles now."

"He won't care. He has Jimmy back."

Daisy frowned. "You think I don't know what you mean, but I do. The maids explained it to me when I asked them if you had a sweetheart." Andy felt his face turn red. Daisy thought it was cute. She had never seen a man blush before. "I know what it's like when the person you want wants someone else." She still remembered the pain of having to watch Alfred pursue Ivy.

"I'd better get back to work." Andy didn't want to talk about Thomas, especially with Daisy.

That night, Jimmy came downstairs for dinner appearing pale and ill. He seemed different without his livery as if somehow his façade had been stripped away, leaving him looking young and vulnerable. Afterward, he spotted Thomas stepping out for a smoke and followed behind him. "Thomas?" The butler was lost in thought and didn't hear him. He gave a little start when Jimmy sat down beside him on the bench. The footman laughed. "I called, but you didn't hear me. You were a million miles away."

"Not quite that far." Thomas smiled. "Are you feeling better? You seemed a little down earlier."

Jimmy looked embarrassed. "My head was killing me. I don't know why I said all that."

"So you didn't mean all those nice things you said about me?"

Jimmy looked steadily into the butler's cool, gray eyes, illuminated silver by the soft moonlight. He never realized just how beautiful the other man truly was. Suddenly, he leaned in and pressed his lips against Thomas'.

* * *

Andy was searching for Thomas. He wished to apologize for starting the fight yesterday. He knew the butler had gotten in trouble with Lord Grantham over the episode, and he wanted him to know he was sorry. Mrs. Patmore said that he had gone outside a little earlier. Andy saw the glow of a cigarette from the other side of the courtyard. As he got nearer, he saw two figures, Thomas and a smaller one that he soon recognized as Jimmy. He felt a wave of sadness pass over him. He had spent many happy evenings sitting there next to Thomas, listening while the older man talked. Thomas had always taken the time to explain things to him in a way that he could understand. Andy had thought him the most interesting, brilliant man he ever met. It made his heart ache to think of those times now. He was about to call out when he saw Jimmy suddenly turn to Thomas and kiss him. He felt as if all the air had been sucked from his lungs, and he couldn't breathe. Somehow he managed to make his way back to the house and upstairs to his room before dissolving into tears.


	12. Chapter 12

The first person that Thomas saw upon coming downstairs the next morning was the cook. "Good morning, Mrs. Patmore."

"You're down early, Mr. Barrow. Did Andy find you last night?"

"Andy?" Thomas looked puzzled. "I haven't seen him since dinner."

"Really? I know he went outside to look for you. He said he had something to tell you."

Thomas looked stunned. "Andy came outside to speak with me last night after dinner?"

"I take it he didn't find you then?"

"No." The alternative was too terrible to imagine.

The other servants began to drift downstairs, including Andy and Jimmy. They stood in their assigned places behind their chairs until the butler was seated. Thomas studied the two footmen sitting side by side, staring down at the table as if in a dream. "How's your eye today, Jimmy? Can you see well enough to serve upstairs?"

"I'm fine, Mr. Barrow," he replied flatly.

"That reminds me. Mr. Molesley, you'll have to act as second footman Friday night."

"What? Me, Mr. Barrow?"

"We're expecting guests, and I can't use Jimmy upstairs for that. Not yet." He enjoyed the look of displeasure on the valet's face probably more than he ought to.

After the meal was finished, Jimmy and Andy hurried to the kitchen to carry up the items for the family's breakfast. Thomas was already waiting for them in the dining room. As they turned to go, Thomas cornered Andy. "Mrs. Patmore said you were looking for me last night."

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry for any problems I may have caused you with Lord Grantham because of the fight."

"That's alright. I can handle him." The butler studied the footman carefully. Had he been there the night before, watching from the shadows? "Andy, I think you may have seen something last night and misunderstood. I'd like the chance to explain."

"You don't owe me any explanations, Mr. Barrow. Can I go now?" Thomas stepped aside to let him pass, but he soon discovered that Andy wasn't the only one anxious to be out of his presence. Jimmy spent the day avoiding him, and when their paths did cross, he was unable to make eye contact. Thomas supposed he was embarrassed about what happened the previous night.

After dinner, Thomas spotted him in the courtyard once again and went out to join him. As soon as he came near, Jimmy stubbed out his cigarette and started to walk away. "Jimmy, wait." The younger man froze in his steps, staring at the ground. Thomas could see that he wanted nothing more than to be out of his presence. "I think you're feeling uneasy about what happened between us last night, but there's no reason to be."

Jimmy remained silent, his discomfort palpable.

"You weren't yourself yesterday. It must have been that bump on the head. I hope we can just forget about it and get back to normal."

Jimmy nodded absently.

"I'm worried that Andy might have seen us, though. Mrs. Patmore said that he came outside looking for me."

Jimmy looked horrified. "Andy saw what I did?"

"I'm not sure, but I think he might have. He doesn't really say much to me these days," Thomas observed ruefully. Jimmy turned on his heel and walked away.

The weeks passed, and the day of Andy's departure grew near. Thomas felt like his life was unraveling and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He was frantic to patch things up with the younger man and prevent his leaving. He tried over and over to convince him to stay. Andy's only response was to throw up an impenetrable wall of polite silence between them. Jimmy wouldn't talk to him either or even look at him for that matter. These days, the footman seemed to be in his own world of misery, saying little and performing his duties as if in a trance. Upstairs, everyone was oblivious to the drama being played out with the three men, but downstairs, everyone felt the tension. Andy would be gone soon, and the other servants hoped that would put an end to it.

One night after dinner, Jimmy found himself standing outside Andy's door. The men had taken to hiding out alone in their rooms in the evenings rather than face the others downstairs. Jimmy knocked softly and entered to find the lanky footman reading on his bed. "May I please speak with you?" Jimmy asked hesitantly. He lowered himself down onto a little chair. Now that he was there, he didn't know how to begin. "You'll be leaving soon."

"Next week." The dark haired footman was counting the days until he could get away.

"I envy you."

Andy fixed him with a quizzical look.

"I need to talk to you about something personal. I'm sorry, but I don't have anyone else to ask."

"What is it?"

Jimmy took a deep breath. "When did you know that you were a—that you liked men?"

Andy had not expected anything like that. "When did I know I was a homosexual, you mean," he spoke acidly.

Jimmy cringed.

"I guess it was something I always felt even before I knew there was a name for it." He added, "Why do you want to know?"

Jimmy was staring at the floor in silence, searching for the right words. Finally, he spoke. "I think I may have become a—what you said."

Andy looked amused. "It's not like a club that one joins." But he saw that Jimmy was serious. "What makes you think that?"

"I-I did something—with a man. Not _that_ , but something."

Andy was beginning to understand. "Is this about the time you kissed Thomas?"

Jimmy looked up in surprise. "You did see us then. Thomas thought you had."

"So why don't you talk to him about it?"

"He said I didn't know what I was doing on account of hitting my head on that wall."

"Well then."

"But the thing is, I did know. That night, he was sitting next to me in the moonlight looking—oh, Lord, what's wrong with me?" He hid his face in his hands, fighting back the tears.

So this was what had been bothering him. "Do you like girls, Jimmy? Do you want to have sex with them?"

"Of course, I do."

"Do you want to have sex with men?"

"God, no."

"Then there's your answer."

"But I kissed a man." Jimmy sounded disgusted.

"You kissed Thomas. He doesn't count. Everyone wants to kiss Thomas."

Jimmy still looked concerned.

Andy smiled. "Don't worry. You're still a ladies' man."

Jimmy felt his stomach relax for the first time in weeks. He wished he could say something to make Andy feel better too. Then he remembered. "You saw me kiss Thomas, but did you see what happened next?"

"I didn't feel the need to stick around for the whole show," Andy answered dryly.

"If you had, you'd have seen him push me away."

"What?" Andy looked surprised at hearing that before rationalizing, "He probably didn't want to take advantage of you, is all."

"He said he couldn't do that to you."

Andy paused to consider his words.

"Don't you, uh—love him anymore?"

"I'll always love Thomas."

"Then why are you leaving? It's not because of me?" Jimmy felt a rare pang of guilt.

"No, it's because he doesn't love me—not enough anyway."

"You're wrong about that, Andy."

There was no reply.


	13. Chapter 13

It was Andy's last night at the Abbey. He was to take the nine o'clock train to London in the morning. While packing, he found the bottle of scotch that Lord Grantham had given him for Christmas. It was still sealed, but he promptly opened it and took a long swallow. It was a lot stronger than the cider and beer he was used to, and he immediately started coughing, but he knew if he drank enough, he wouldn't have to think about Thomas, and it wouldn't hurt anymore.

There was a knock on the door, and Jimmy entered the room. "I just came to say goodbye."

With Thomas no longer between them, the two men had become friends of sorts which absolutely amazed Andy. He had grown to appreciate the other man's _joie de vivre_ and devil-may-care attitude. He wished they could have met under different circumstances.

Jimmy looked around. "I see you're all packed." He noticed the bottle of scotch sitting beside the bed. "Are you drinking?"

Andy offered him the bottle, and Jimmy took a huge gulp.

"You'd better go easy. That stuff is pretty strong." Jimmy watched as Andy took another drink. "Have you said goodbye to Thomas?" The butler had disappeared to his room right after dinner without a word to anyone.

"Not yet. I was trying to get up the courage."

"Dutch courage, you mean," Jimmy remarked as Andy took another swallow of the scotch. "I'll miss you, Andy. I mean that. I know we didn't get off to a great start, but I'd like to think we're friends now."

Andy nodded. "We are friends, Jimmy, and I'll miss you too." He held out his hand to the other man.

Jimmy shook it and said, "I'd better go before I get soppy. Good luck in London. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Andy laughed. "Good luck to you too, Jimmy."

After he left, Andy continued to drink while reminiscing about his time at Downton Abbey. He would miss the other servants who had become like a second family to him. He would even miss the Crawleys, especially the children who all adored him, but there was one person he would miss most of all. He couldn't put it off any longer. It was time to say goodbye to Thomas Barrow. He took a last gulp of scotch and rose to go. He was surprised to find the room spinning when he got up, forcing him to steady himself while making his way out the door and down the corridor to the butler's room. Thomas was curled up in his armchair, rocking slowly and trying to quell the growing feeling of panic inside him. There was a knock on the door, and he watched as Andy stumbled in noisily, closing the door behind him. "I came to say goodbye, Mr. Barrow."

Thomas rose to his feet. He could smell the odor of alcohol wafting from the footman. "Have you been drinking, Andy?"

"A little."

"More than a little, I'd say. Are you drunk?"

Andy began to cry. "I loved you, you know. We were so happy together until you brought Jimmy here. Why wasn't I enough for you?"

Thomas reached out to him. "You are enough for me, Andy. I love you."

"You spoiled everything, you bastard." He took a swing at the butler, nearly falling over in the attempt.

Thomas easily deflected the blow and wrapped his arms tightly around the footman, effectively pinning his arms to his sides. "God, Andy, I am so, so sorry. Please, give me another chance."

Andy freed himself from Thomas' grasp and proceeded to push him up against the wall. The butler braced himself to receive a well-deserved punch, but instead, he felt Andy lean into him and press his lips against his own. The two men were soon touching and caressing each other with wild abandon until Andy suddenly pulled away and took a step back. "I bet Jimmy never kissed you like that."

Thomas was too stunned to reply as he watched Andy stagger out the door. He sank back down in his armchair to catch his breath and let things settle down a bit. Half an hour later, there was another knock on the door, and Jimmy poked his head in. "You'd better come. Andy is being sick in the bathroom."

Thomas followed him down the corridor where Mr. Molesley and the hallboys were congregated outside the open bathroom door, watching as the footman retched loudly. "Lordy. Alright, I'll take it from here. The rest of you go back to bed. Go!" Thomas ordered.

Everyone scurried off except Jimmy. "He was drinking earlier. I guess he had a bit too much."

The two men entered the bathroom to find Andy now lying on the floor next to the toilet groaning. Thomas knelt down beside him and brushed the curls back from his clammy forehead. "Are you done?"

"I-I think so."

Thomas turned to Jimmy. "Right. Help me get him back to his room." They each wrapped one long arm around their neck and lifted the footman to his feet. He was deathly pale. They half-dragged, half-carried him to his room and deposited him down on his bed. Thomas removed his shoes before pulling the covers over him. "Go to sleep, Andy. I'll be back to check on you later."

In response, the footman fixed him with a look of silent gratitude that made Thomas' heart ache.

The butler spotted the bottle on the night table and gestured to Jimmy. "What do you say?"

Jimmy shrugged. "Why not?"

They retired to Thomas' room where he found two small glasses. With libation in hand, the butler lifted his glass in a toast. "To Andy."

"To Andy," Jimmy repeated before throwing back the scotch. The two men sat in silence, both lost in their own thoughts.

Thomas poured them another drink and another after that. "What's wrong with me, Jimmy? Why do I always end up alone?"

Jimmy didn't have an answer to that, having the same problem himself.

"When Andy first told me he loved me, I thought he was teasing. What would that sweet, young thing want with a miserable, old sod like me? But he saw something good in me, something worth loving, and it made me want to be the person he thought I was." Thomas poured them another drink. "Things were great for a while. We had a home here, and our work, and at night we had each other. Everyone knew about us but looked the other way. For blokes like us, that's about as good as it gets, and we were happy together, really happy."

"Until I came and spoiled things," Jimmy said morosely.

"No, Jimmy. None of this is your fault. It's mine, all mine." Thomas was adamant. "You're my friend, and you needed a job. I was happy I could help. but then I started to think of you as more than a friend. Andy knew it, and it hurt him deeply."

Jimmy was looking very uncomfortable now. "I know I kissed you that time, but I'm not like you, Thomas. I can never give you what Andy can."

"I know that. It was just a fantasy on my part that got out of hand. I thought I could manage the situation, but I couldn't. I should have seen how out of control things had become when the two of you were beating on each other." He shook his head in disbelief. "I'm sorry I dragged you into this mess, Jimmy."

The footman was silent for a long time before finally saying, "You can't let him leave. You and Andy belong together." He paused. "You have to fix this, Thomas."

"But how?"

"I think I have an idea."


	14. Chapter 14

The next morning, Andy awoke with his head pounding and his stomach churning. He opened one hazel eye to see sunlight streaming into his room before snapping it tightly shut again. Why was it so bright this early? He desperately needed to empty his bladder and slowly pulled himself up to a sitting position. He swung his long legs over the side of the bed until his feet touched the floor. He perched there for a long time with his head in his hands and a sour taste in his mouth. When he finally looked up, he saw Thomas seated in a chair next to him. "How are you feeling?" the butler asked.

Andy wasn't up to any conversation and could only mumble a weak, "Bathroom."

Thomas took his arm and helped him up. He led him down the corridor and deposited him in front of the bathroom.

Andy closed the door and padded unsteadily to the toilet. He was trying to remember what happened the previous night, but the effort made his head hurt even more. When his bladder was emptied and he felt reasonably sure that he wasn't going to vomit, he went to the sink and splashed cold water on his face. He was startled at the reflection he saw in the glass. He looked ashen with bloodshot eyes and a healthy growth of stubble covering the lower half of his face. His dark, curly hair was matted and sticking up in all directions.

He exited the bathroom to find Thomas still waiting outside. The butler followed a short distance behind him as he made his way back to his room. "I'll fetch you some breakfast."

Andy felt his stomach lurch at the thought of food, and he crawled back into bed groaning. The last thing he remembered was having a drink with Jimmy there in his room, only there had many drinks, too many. He must have passed out in his bed, but other memories were flashing in his mind now: throwing a punch at Thomas, pushing him up against the wall, lying sprawled out on the bathroom floor. There had been voices too, men's voices, and hands groping him, pulling at him. It was all a jumble of sights and sounds, and Andy could make no sense of it.

Thomas soon returned with a tray. "Try to eat something. It'll make you feel better."

Andy slowly pulled himself up to a sitting position and lifted the teacup with a shaking hand. "What time is it?"

"It's almost 9:30."

Andy experienced a momentary flicker of panic. He should be on duty now. Then he remembered that he didn't work there anymore. "My train."

"It seems you missed it." Thomas smiled at him.

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"You needed your sleep, and besides, you're in no condition to travel."

Andy became agitated. "I told my mum I would spend a few days at home with her before starting my new job. She'll be worried if I don't turn up."

"I thought of that. I called the butcher shop and talked to your stepfather. I told him you were feeling a little under the weather and wouldn't be coming down today. He'll tell your mother."

Andy relaxed a little. As usual, Thomas had taken care of everything. He nibbled on a piece of dry toast, spotting a rumpled blanket lying next to the chair. "Did you spend the night here?"

"I wanted to be on hand in case you needed anything," Thomas admitted shyly.

Andy was touched. Then a dark cloud passed over his face. "Did I hit you last night?"

Thomas grinned. "You tried to, but your aim was a little off."

"I remember pushing you up against a wall."

"And then you gave me the best kiss of my life, a regular knee-wobbler."

Andy looked shocked. "I was drunk. I didn't know what I was doing."

"Believe me. You knew what you were doing alright."

Andy didn't know what to say, so he continued to chew his toast and drink his tea in silence. Thomas was right. It did make him feel a little better.

Thomas took the glass of water from the tray and poured a packet of powder into it. "When you're done with breakfast, drink this and go back to sleep."

"Thank you, Mr. Barrow—Thomas."

The butler smiled and slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind him.

After luncheon, he appeared once again with more food. Andy had bathed and shaved and changed his clothes. Although still pale, he looked almost normal. _Ah, the resilience of youth_ , Thomas thought enviously. "You didn't come down, so Daisy made up a tray for you."

Andy tucked in eagerly. "I couldn't face them all. Do they know I got drunk last night and missed my train?"

"I told them you were indisposed, but no doubt, Molesley and the hallboys filled them in. The sight of a drunken footman spewing his guts out would be too good a story to keep to themselves."

Andy cringed. "Maybe I'll just slip away now and catch a later train to London."

"No!" Thomas looked alarmed. "You can't go. Remember, I told your folks you weren't coming today."

Andy nodded. In truth, he was enjoying having Thomas fuss over him. It felt the way it used to between them, and Andy was in no hurry to give that up. He spent most of the afternoon reading in his room, but eventually, boredom drove him downstairs. He found himself in the kitchen as usual. Daisy greeted him with a warm smile. "How are you feeling, Andy? Mr. Barrow said you were too ill this morning to make your train."

"I was 'indisposed,' " he explained, using Thomas' word.

Mrs. Patmore snorted. "Now there's a word for hangover I've never heard before."

Andy grinned sheepishly. "I thought I might go for a walk and clear my head."

He was no sooner out the back door when Jimmy descended on him. "Are you feeling better?" he asked.

Andy nodded. "I'm sorry about last night. I guess I should stick to cider."

Jimmy shrugged philosophically. "Don't worry about it. It's nice to see you're human like the rest of us."

Andy laughed at that.

"Where are you going anyway?"

"I just wanted to take a little walk before dinner."

"Mind if I tag along? There's something I want to talk to you about."

Andy raised an eyebrow at him. "If you're going to tell me you've been kissing more men, I really will think you've joined the club."

Jimmy looked embarrassed. "No, I think you were right. It was just Thomas." He added, "Of course, I'm going to have to leave here."

"What?"

"I can't stay on. What if it happened again?"

"If you go, Thomas won't have either of us. He'll be alone." Andy looked upset.

"He'll survive," Jimmy replied callously. "I was hoping when you get to London, you could try to find me a place, preferably one with a lot of pretty girls."

Andy didn't answer, and they continued their walk in silence.


	15. Chapter 15

The family members were dining at the home of friends that evening, so the staff members had their dinner early. Andy took his share of teasing from Mr. Molesley and the hallboys which he accepted with good humor. Afterward, he climbed the stairs to the men's quarters and dropped down on his bed. Jimmy's earlier pronouncement that he was leaving too had disturbed the young man greatly. If he left, Thomas would be all alone. Jimmy had said he would survive, but Andy wasn't so sure. The last time Jimmy had gone, the butler opted for a dangerous course of treatment involving electrotherapy and drugs which made him very ill. What would he do this time if they both left? Andy shuddered at the thought. He still remembered how broken Thomas was when he first arrived at Downton, defensive and emotionally fragile. It had taken him months to earn the older man's trust and eventually his love. Thomas had come a long way in the past year, even securing the butler position. Was all that he had achieved about to come undone now?

There was a knock on the door, and Jimmy sailed into the room. "What are you doing sitting here by yourself? Come and join us for cards."

Andy followed behind him obediently. When they got to Thomas' room, he saw that the small table had been pushed up next to the bed, and the armchair and another smaller chair were positioned around it. "How about a little poker on your last night at Downton?" Thomas asked him.

Andy was a terrible poker player, but he didn't feel he could refuse. "I suppose so," he agreed.

Thomas sank down on his bed. He had stripped down to his vest, a patch of soft, dark hair visible at the open neck. Andy had always loved the sight of the butler's powerful chest and arms, a stark contrast to his own boyishly slender frame. Thomas was smoking, a glass of amber liquid in his other hand. He wasn't wearing his glove. To be allowed to see his disfigured hand like that was a mark of intimacy. He poured Jimmy a drink. "I confiscated your scotch last night," he informed Andy, "for your own good, of course. I didn't think you'd mind."

Andy cringed at the sight of it. "No, you keep it."

Thomas smiled. He set down his drink and dealt the cards. The stakes were a lot higher than Andy was comfortable with. He always sent a good part of his wages home to his mother, leaving him with very little spending money. "So tell us about this new place you're going to," the butler asked him. "What are the people like?"

"The McDonalds, you mean? All I know is he's a banker in Lombard Street. They have two little boys and a house in Belgrave Square."

"Alright for some," Jimmy remarked coolly.

Soon the room was filled with a cloud of smoke and the sound of loud, alcohol-fueled voices as Thomas took two hands and Jimmy three. Andy was losing badly. "I'd better get out now, or I won't have the money for my ticket tomorrow."

"You can't quit," Thomas protested.

"But I don't have any more money."

"How about we play one more hand, just the two of us?" Jimmy asked him, sneaking a quick glance at Thomas.

"But—"

"If you win, I'll cover all your losses for the night."

"And if I lose?"

Jimmy looked over at Thomas again. "If you lose, I take your place in London."

"What?" Andy couldn't believe his ears.

"The McDonalds need a footman, and I'm a footman, aren't I?"

"They're expecting _me_. I told them _I'd_ do it."

"Thomas can call their butler in the morning and get everything sorted."

"What if they don't want you?"

Jimmy looked affronted. "Why wouldn't they want me? I'm a pleasant enough chap, and I'm much more handsome than you are. They'd be lucky to have me."

"I'm taller," Andy countered feebly.

Thomas broke in. "I'm sure I could convince them of Jimmy's innate charm and beauty," he said sarcastically, "and the fact that he's a decent footman too."

"What do you say, Andy? One hand and you could win back all your money to take with you to London."

"Alright."

Thomas dealt the cards and sat back to watch anxiously, his entire future with Andy depending on the outcome. He noticed Jimmy gnawing on his bottom lip. It was a tell he had when a hand wasn't to his liking. Jimmy tossed a couple of chips in the kitty and discarded two cards. Thomas dealt him two more. Andy matched his bet, throwing down three cards, and was given three more. Jimmy looked worried but put another chip in the pot and discarded one more card, receiving another in its place. Andy shook his head. "I fold."

The two men turned over their cards. Jimmy revealed three queens, while Andy had two sixes. Jimmy let out a sigh of relief. "I guess I'd better get packing then." He exited the room, leaving Thomas and Andy alone.

Thomas skimmed idly through the pile of discarded playing cards. He fixed Andy with a shy smile. "It looks like you'll be staying on then."

"It looks that way."

"Does this mean that you've forgiven me?"

"It means we'll be working together again."

Thomas moved the table away from the bed and positioned Jimmy's chair next to the footman. "Look, Andy, I know this is all my fault. I took you for granted. I took what we had together for granted, and for that, I'm so terribly, terribly sorry. I know I was insensitive to your feelings, and that I hurt you deeply. You have every right to be angry with me."

Andy didn't reply.

Thomas offered him another smile. "If it would make you feel better, I give you permission to punch me. Wouldn't you like to give me a black eye?"

"I'd like to give you two, but if I did, His Lordship would probably chuck us both out."

Thomas laughed. "You're right about that." He took the younger man's hand and was encouraged when he didn't pull away. "I love you, Andy. Please, give me another chance."

Andy gave in grudgingly. "I suppose we could try again."

Thomas gave him a grateful hug. "Thank you, Andy. Thank you."

The footman was mulling over the strange turn of events of that evening. "So the poker game was just a set-up for Jimmy to take my place in London?"

Thomas smiled mysteriously.

Andy was curious. "Was it your idea?"

"No. It was Jimmy's."

"Did he really want to leave?"

Thomas hesitated. "He thought it was for the best."

"So he did it for you."

"He did it for us," Thomas corrected him. "He said we belonged together."

Andy felt bad about having misjudged Jimmy. There was obviously more to him than met the eye. "That was gallant of him."

"He's a better man than he knows."

"Won't you miss him?"

"Yes, but it became clear even to me that the two of you couldn't work together."

"I was leaving anyway."

"I couldn't let that happen. I told you once if I had to choose, I would choose you. I'll always choose you."

Andy was touched. Then he thought of something. "How could you be sure that Jimmy would win? Did you stack the deck?"

"You were there. You know I didn't."

"So how—"

"You're an appalling poker player. Jimmy felt certain he could beat you."

"What if I hadn't agreed to play, or what if I had won?"

Thomas chuckled. "We would have had to knock you out and hide you in the cupboard until Jimmy got to London." He added, "He didn't think you wanted to go, not really."

"What did you think?"

Thomas considered carefully. "I knew you were hurt and angry, and you wanted to get as far away from me as you could, so yes, I believed you wanted to leave, that is until tonight."

"What changed your mind?"

"I saw the cards you threw away." Thomas gave him a sly, sideways glance. "You discarded three aces."

Andy grinned. "Like you said, I'm an appalling poker player."

"Admit it. You didn't want to go because you still love me."

Andy became serious. "I do love you Thomas, but if you ever treat me like that again, I will leave you."

"Understood." Thomas gave him a little smile and blew a smoke ring at the ceiling.


End file.
